South Park quotes

[writing on blackboard] Okay, so what do we get when we multiply a negative number--

Cartman

Dick tits!

[pauses] ...when we multiply a negative number by another negative--

Cartman

Shoot! Asshole! [Stan and Kyle glance back at him. Mrs. Garrison sighs; Cartman smiles] Excuse me.

And if we apply what we've just learned, we see that all negatives can--

Cartman

Splodge! Balls! Bloody vaginal belch!

Cartman

[in a sing-song voice] You guys, don't laugh. It makes me feel insecure about my illness.

All right, kids, let's just try to focus on learning, okay? Now all you need to remember here is that negative numbers--

Cartman

Tampons! Tampon dick shit!

Kyle

Will you knock it off already?!

Cartman

Kyle, don't you think I wish I could? I'd give anything to be normal like you. Kike.

Kyle

Don't push me, asshole!

Kyle! Watch your language! [Cartman begins laughing maniacally]

If I could yell "tampon dick shoot" in the classroom, I'd be so happy.

Well, Mr. and Mrs. Broflovski, I think your son has learned a lot and he appears to be honestly remorseful for making fun of people with disabilities. Piss! Piss!

Our son is a good kid; he just didn't understand that Tourette's is a real disease.

Well, I think the only thing left is for your son to apologize to his little classmate. [Cartman walks up and bats his eyes in anticipation]

Well, Kyle?

Kyle

[through his teeth, with his fists clenched] I'm sorry.

Cartman

What was that? I couldn't quite make that out, Kyle.

Kyle

I'm sorry!

Cartman

You're "starry?" I don't get what you mean by that, Kyle. You're starry because I--

Kyle

I said I'm sorry, you piece of-- [cuts himself off]

Cartman

Oh-oh, no, don't worry about it, Kyle, I understand. I've learned to deal with intolerance. Dumbstruck douchebag! And it means a lot that you're standing here, apologizing, with your dad and lovely mother. Fat Jew! Jew bitch! [covers mouth]

Sheila

Oh, thank you, Eric.

Cartman

Thank you. Big-nosed kike!

Well, I think we can all put all this behind us now. Piss out my ass!

Cartman

Yeah! Piss out your ass right onto Kyle's mom's fat fucking Jew face! [coughs] Oh goodness, excuse me. Oh geez, that was a bad one.

Cartman

[to Thomas] Isn't having Tourettes awesome?

Cartman

This Saturday I will go on national television, live. I will say horrible things on the air. Despicable things! And people will call me brave.

Cartman

Finally, my wish of going public with my illness can come true. Goddamn Jews! Suck my ass-barf!

Cartman

Thank you, everybody. Suck my balls! [audience applauds] And I also wanna say that [revealed that he made the whole thing up.] I'm making all this up! [startled by his own words, then covers his mouth as the crowd falls silent.] Uh, I... I...'m making this all up to you, for putting up with my mental disorder. I cry at night because I don't have a dad. [turns away from the mic and mumbles] What the hell is going on?

Uh, it's okay, Eric. We understand your illness, m'kay?

Cartman

No hey ut what, what I meant to say was "asslicker cumballs." And uhh, [helplessly] I'm secretly in love with Patty Nelson. I fantasize about kissing Patty Nelson! [covers his mouth]

Ewwww!

Cartman

So I'm sorry, but I'm not doing the show and that's it. Goodbye! [gets up out of his seat and starts walking away]

Why don't you take a seat?

Cartman

No, I don't want to take a seat.

Have a seat.

Cartman

No, I'm just going to--

Take a seat, right over there. [Cartman walks over]

Cartman

How does he do that?

You know, one time, I was doing a show called To Catch a Predator, and we almost caught this pedophile, but then he ran from us because he didn't want to be on Dateline. So we tracked him down at his house, and you know what he did? He shot himself. It'd be a shame if you didn't want to be on Dateline. It'd be a shame if we had to track you down and you shot yourself.

Cartman

I just peed my pants! [covers his mouth, shocked]

Cartman

This Saturday I will actually say anything I want on national television. I'm going to blast the Jews, Kyle. I'm going to call them every name in the book, and people will call it brilliant television. They'll probably give me an Emmy.

Cartman

Titty sprinkles!

Oh no! Chris Hansen?! [shoots himself in the head]

"Dateline?!" [shoots himself in the head]

There aren't really brownies?! [shoots himself in the head]

Oh, God. Oh, here it comes. [goes for the final push, which has him pushing himself off the toilet seat by his hands several times] Whoa, hot! Hot, hot! Whoa, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot! [a view from the street. Randy's moans can be heard; he can be seen moving about] Whoa, whoa! Whoa, hot! Hot, hot, hot-hot-hot-hot, hot, hot!! [back in the bathroom, the stool finally comes out with a dull splash as it hits the water] Dohhhhhh! Ooh! Ooh. [sobs in relief] Ohhh, it's over. It's over. [reaches for the toilet paper] Oh, God. [puts his briefs and pants back up in place] I feel so much better. Oh. [a view from within the toilet: Randy turns around to flush, but stops, looks down, and crouches down for a better look] Wow. That is huge. That has got to be the biggest crap I've ever taken. He-Hey, Sharon. Sharon, you gotta come see this.

[from the heart] I almost did it. I almost made something of myself. You know, when you get real close, you start thinking that maybe your life is gonna matter. [sobs some more] I mean, this was something I made! Something that came from me! That was a part of me! The only thing I ever made that was any good!

Stan

Gee, thanks, Dad.

You're welcome.

Stan

Do you really need the biggest-crap record? Could you maybe see your way to just letting my dad have this one?

Let him have it?! Why would I do that?!

Stan

Look, you gotta understand, sir. My dad's never won an award for anything. Ever. He doesn't have one single trophy. I mean, even I have a second-place trophy for most Sports Illustrated subscriptions sold.

I have the first-place trophy for that.

Stan

[surprised] Dude, don't you have enough? I mean, you got tons of money, a jet, and the biggest rock band in the world, a hot wife, and you've been knighted. I mean, at some point, can't you just kind of fuck off?

Look, I first knew something was wrong when I looked at Bono's first award for biggest crap. It said he took it in 1960.

Stan

So?

So that's the year Bono was born. Then it all made sense to me. How could Bono be so talented, so caring, and yet seem like such a piece of crap? Because he is crap. Don't you get it? Bono is not the record holder.

Stan

He's the record.

I'm sorry, Mr. Marsh, but if you cannot crap out the crap, it is not really a crap.